Greatness
by Pyralis Anacreon
Summary: Al thinks of Ed, and what his brother can do. Slight AU


Al sometimes wonders what things would be like if their positions were reversed. If Ed was trapped in the armor and Al was missing an arm and a leg. He thinks that even if he somehow managed to affix his brother's soul to the armor, he could never do what Ed has done. He's not as strong or stubborn as his brother. He cares what other people think of him, he cares about fitting in or at least getting along. Ed doesn't. Ed does what he wants and damn anyone who tries to stop him. Al's brother doesn't have to prove anything to anyone, and they both know it. He's never needed approval, not since their mother died.

Sometimes that scares Al. Ed thinks he needs Al's loyalty, but Al knows he doesn't. And the younger brother prays every day to a god he doesn't believe in, that Ed never realizes that. It might destroy him. It might drive him away. It might not change anything, and maybe that's what Al fears most. Because that would mean his brother is faking it, and Al probably couldn't tell the difference.

When he was still in the armor, Al sometimes worried that Ed saw him as a burden. He doesn't anymore, though, because he knows Ed can't really be burdened; that implies that he doesn't want to carry it with his whole being, and Ed never does anything partially.

Al loves his brother very much, but he rarely worries for him anymore. He's seen Ed at his worst, beaten and bloody and almost broken. And Al knows that's when Ed's at his best, too, in a fight he _can't possibly win_, but he's _going to anyway_, because he's Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, and he doesn't lose, or break. The Edward Al knows now is just like when they were kids, smiling and loving and protective to the point of lunacy, and more brilliant and radiant than the sun. Ed makes things change, sometimes by force of will, sometimes by accident, sometimes with just a few words.

_You've got a pair of good, strong legs. Get up and use 'em._

Al has always thought that phrase was something Ed used to quietly mock himself. Because Ed has only one good leg, the other faked by cold metal and gears, and he's still walking. That's why he hates himself just a little more every time he hears Ed say it. Maybe if he hadn't been so weak, he wouldn't have lost his body. And Ed wouldn't have sacrificed his arm for Al's soul. And they might have gotten through it together, lived somewhat normal lives and tried desperately to forget the Gate of Truth.

Then he thinks things would have gone exactly the same anyway. Ed would never forget the Gate, he'd always thirst to know more and more of the world. He'd never be happy in Resembool, tied down, trapped. But he'd stay anyway, for Al, because he'd never leave his little brother. And Al would want to let him go, but be too selfish to ever do so.

Then Al thinks that maybe things have turned out alright enough as is.

Sometimes, when Al's not thinking right, when he experiences the doubts and insecurities all humans have--_but he knows his brother doesn't have them, not really, Ed likes to think he does but Al knows he doesn't_--he fears that Ed will one day turn on them, to see what the other side of the fence looks like, to _know_. Someday, Al thinks, Ed's going to kill someone in cold blood, just to see if he can do it. Ed pushes his limits without knowing what Al knows--_he doesn't have any_. Al knows his brother better than anyone else, even Ed. He knows his brother can't be broken, can't lose.

And when Al thinks about all of this, he curses the Gate with every bad word he knows, and wants to punch something.

The Gate took his brother and made him something better than human, and he hates it for that, more than that it took his body.

Ed is alone in his great potential, and Al is little comfort.

* * *

I honestly can't tell you where this came from. Really, I just press the keys. All credit goes to that little part of the brain that throws ideas and words at you while you're trying to write something. Stupid thing keeps doing this. If anyone found that up there a little strange... I have no excuse. The muse made me do it. Next up: Ed's thoughts on Ed. I may be allergic to the past tense. The doctor hasn't gotten back to me on that yet.


End file.
